Lessons

You gave me a guitar with broken strings
And promised me my soul was made of music,
But as the years went on
And silence reigned
I lost my beat to the buzz
of a society restrained.

You haven’t mentioned the music since.

You bought me paint
As a form of release for the colors of
Chaos that consume my mind-
And for a time my passion flowed
Blended by brushes and for once
I was in control of a world all my own
And for a time I didn’t feel so alone,
But the colors dried wrong
And my brushes all broke-

We haven’t spoken of my art since.

You gave me ballet shoes
So I could learn how to dance.
Show my thoughts through my body,
And perhaps by chance add some
Discipline to the fire within me.
But I couldn’t keep up-
My bones just wouldn’t bend,
I just couldn’t fake it, I couldn’t pretend-

The wild in me always won in the end.

The expectations were just too much
Always afraid of losing touch
With what I now know was never even
Mine to begin with.

The disappointment was draining
And why should it be?
Don’t you see,
I was only a child then-

. . .

I bought myself a notebook,
And when the years weighed heavy on my heart,
I wrote this poem as a reminder
That no matter how much time you feel is lost
Know it’s never too late for a brand new start.

Do I command this room with a whisper?
Or is there a power to my voice? It it soft or sharp?

Am I beautiful? Or just merely pretty?
Or not at-all in your eyes-

Is my garden full of red roses or white lilies?
And did I keep the thorns?

Am I cold or warm? Inside and out?

Do I avoid eye-contact on the streets
Because I’m a bitch? Or just painfully shy?

Do I sigh out of boredom?
Or does it come place someplace different?
Someplace deeper?
Someplace even I can’t reach?

Do I tear up in my right eye
Because it’s more sensitive to the cold and wind?
Or does it know a painful secret
The left one doesn’t?

Do I stare at the sky because I’m flighty and detached?
Or maybe I sympathize with something so
Grand-
So pure-
So beautiful-
So taken for granted- because really,
When was the last time you actually looked at the sky?

Tell me, please,
Because I really want to know-
All you know, so please-
Tell me what you know about me.

Love does not come peacefully.
It is not enchanted meadows
Or grand castles
Where a single kiss can change fate
And lead two newly entwined souls
Down the road of happily ever after.A lie as old as time, these storybook
Fantasies we dream, and wish, and cry-
And still that fabled glass slipper
Never seems to fit
But that’s because love is not a fairytale-
Not even close-We say it’s not real when it’s ours
Because there are no gowns,
Or magic, or musical numbers
To let us know that our storybook dream
Is finally coming true.
And then we let it go,
More empty than before.
Because real love just disappeared,
And we didn’t even know…

Love does not come peacefully.
Love keeps you guessing,
It keeps you on your toes-
It makes you pull your hair out
And question everything you’ve ever
Known to be true-
And it challenges you-
See, it’s the best and the worst-
Because to be vulnerable terrifying,
But still, somehow warm,
And makes you feel safe and whole,
And how could something so sweet
Shatter a soul so thoroughly
And turn a heart to stone?

So no, love does not come peacefully-
It is chaos bred with bliss-
It kills, it renews-
So it’s a fucking hit or miss-
You can choose to run away,
Or stay and take the risk,
But still, soon it will find you,
You can be sure of this-
And you can try to keep it down,
Dim, hide and kill the spark-
But you know it will light again
And illuminate the dark
You try to live in-
Cold, safe and apart-
It’s either one of two ways
To torture a heart.To love or to lock,
I’ll pick fire every time-
Because a lonely life of ice
Just couldn’t ever be mine.
So yes, my heart will break-
Time and time again-
And so life will keep on changing
Until I meet the one and then-
Fuck no, “Happily Every After”
The adventure’s just begun!
We’ll be growing, learning, changing-
To love is like chasing the sun-And some stand still
And look-
And scoff-
And say that it’s a waste-
But those who keep on moving
Know it’s best to keep the pace-
And move on through the pain-
And exhaustion-
And even the bitter doubt.
Because to see the world through
Unjaded eyes-
Well…
That’s really what it’s all about.